The clownish reveller is driven hence.
I meet no night with frenzied amorous waste
Nor drug my noon with self-deceiving haste,
This to your light, my reasoned reverence.

Now since I love, I am content with Time.
I scorn that impotent mad will to cause;
Trusting the gradual action of old laws,
To round my life, and to mature my rhyme.

O! You, who are the worker of this change,
Respect in me the measure of your power,
Hold to a steady godhead, lest I range
From growing symmetry of this new hour!
If Chaos wake from shattered Harmony,
Yours be the shame of half divinity.